


A Spider's Gamble

by rage_quitter



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Alien Biology, Blindfolds, Bondage, Business partners with benefits, Fingerfucking, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Sort of PWP, Trans Character, Xenophilia, bunch of smut. like. its all the smut okay, it's all consensual, knotting (kind of but not in the furry way), theres a lot of smut things okay theres a lot, they're both vers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 07:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16970454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rage_quitter/pseuds/rage_quitter
Summary: The Drifter hasn't visited since before the Red War. When he finally returns, he offers to make up for lost time. The Spider is never one to turn down such a good deal, especially one delivering himself so eagerly right into his web.





	A Spider's Gamble

**Author's Note:**

> well. here you go. please ship this.
> 
> for reference: drifter is a trans man who transitioned pre-rez. his transition included a phalloplasty and hysterectomy, but not a colpectomy. many trans men choose not to have a colpectomy for sexual reasons, since a phallophasty doesn't result in a penis as sensitive as that of an amab person's. 
> 
> as for eliksni vocab, the words used for spider's naughty bits are insect and arachnid names for various reproductive organs. yeah. i put a lot of research into the potential ways eliksni mate. horny on main for aliens.
> 
> established "relationship" and everything's 100% consensual too lads no need to fear!!

“The Drifter? Here? And he didn’t say hello?” The Spider scoffed at the report, slowly twisting the shell of a dead Ghost in his claws. “How disappointing.”

“Oh, did I not?” said a voice, startling Spider and his guards.

Spider looked up to see the Lightbearer leaning against the open airlock, arms crossed, a devious smirk on his face. Spider’s guards growled in displeasure, but lowered their pikes.

“In that case, hello, Spider,” Drifter said. “Sorry about the late visit. You know how business gets. Intended to drop by earlier to thank you for that intel, but I got a bit wrapped up. These Guardians are real persistent sometimes.”

“Tell me about it,” Spider grumbled, settling back. “At least they’re clearing out my Shore.”

“Guardians sure like to murder stuff.” Drifter snorted. “Probably why they’re all so into Gambit. But, hey, I’m not complaining. Gets me paid. And speaking of payment…”

Spider set the Ghost aside and leaned forward, curling the claws of his upper hands on his armrests. “Kevriks, Veksin, go take… thirty minutes. I need to discuss business alone.”

Spider’s guards shared a look, but headed for the exit. They watched Drifter warily.

As they passed him, Spider watched Drifter’s grin grow. “Might wanna make it an hour instead,” Drifter told them.

Spider scoffed, every eye on Drifter. When the guards were out of the central room, Drifter shrugged off the wall and sauntered forward a few steps.

The airlock hissed closed, and locked with a click. 

Spider clasped his lower hands and growled low in his throat. “An hour? Confident, are we?”

“What can I say?” Drifter held out his hands, a glimmer in his eyes. “I like to be generous in my business deals.”

“How magnanimous of you,” Spider growled. “I was considering that information as a payment after your last… visit.”

“Oh, was it?” Drifter snorted. “I think I’m losin’ track of what’s the payment and what’s being paid for.”

“That’s why I’m the businessman, and you’re the one making Guardians fight monsters from the Ascendant Plane for fun.”

“Ha! For fun. Just wait till I get to show you what’s gonna come of it. You’ll get a cut, of course. Buy yourself somethin’ pretty.”

“Your payments are rarely exchangeable,” Spider said. 

Drifter barked a laugh. “Yeah, that’s fair enough. Not gonna be too many buyers for what I’m workin’ on, anyway. But that’s neither here nor there, so.” He shrugged.

“Let’s discuss what is here, shall we?” Spider said with a low purr.

Drifter approached, his gait nearly an aimless saunter. Confident, powerful, knowing. Spider tightened the grip of his claws on the armrests. Drifter lazily pulled off his gloves and set down his gun, letting them transmat. 

He rested an arm against Spider’s knee and cupped his chin in his hand, the other tucking neatly in the crease of his elbow. “How much are we discussing today, Spider?” he asked, a grin he failed at playing as innocent on his face.

Spider leaned forward slowly, narrowing the gap. “You did offer an hour,” he said. “And if there is anything I know about you, it’s that you are good on your word.”

Drifter dropped his hand, grin growing as toothy as humans could manage. “I do hate to disappoint.”

Spider’s lower hands twitched with the urge to reach for him. Spider held himself back and pulled in a breath as he considered the next act of this game they always seemed to play. “And I hate being disappointed. But you know that already.”

“Ha!” Drifter dug his fingers almost too hard into Spider’s knee. “When have I ever disappointed you, huh? I don’t mean to brag, but uh, I don’t think you’ve ever had a single complaint about our business meetings, Spider.”

Spider chuckled low as he let his claws uncurl a little. “Your terms are quite agreeable. As are your… services.”

“Services.” Drifter scoffed. “Losing the script a little? I have that effect on people. Gotta say, really liking that it’s working on you.”

Spider growled softly in warning. “I’m not a patient Spider,” he said. “As fun as our talks always are, you’re standing here, in front of me, in my hideaway, only talking.”

“Guess that’s the one problem when we’re two men who just love to hear our own voices,” Drifter joked. He braced a hand against Spider’s armrest. The entire hanging throne creaked when he set a boot on it, and he froze, eyes flicking up warily. 

“It’s not going to fall,” Spider said, shifting, as though to prove it. 

“If you’re not livin’ life on the edge, you ain’t livin’, right?” Drifter said dryly. 

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Drifter grumbled. “Your flair for drama’s the reason I gotta get a full body workout just to even touch you.”

“Intimidation works wonders. You know that well yourself, don’t you?”

Drifter jammed his boot more securely against one of the legs of Spider’s throne and hauled himself up with a grunt. He glared upwards as it creaked again. “Yeah, I’ll give you that much. Seriously, though, would it kill ya to get this thing at least two legs on the ground instead of twitching around in the air? Climbing my ass up here is kind of a mood killer.”

Spider chuckled, thoroughly amused as Drifter gripped one of the cables for balance. “I could consider it,” he said, almost teasing, eyeing him. “I did think you liked adventure.”

Drifter leaned forward and pointed at him, his eyes narrowing. “Adventure ain’t risking breaking my neck every time I visit, Spider.”

“And yet, here you are,” Spider purred, sitting forward, inches from Drifter’s face. 

“And yet, here I am,” Drifter replied dryly. 

Spider’s eyes were drawn to Drifter’s hand on the cable, his fingers slowly shifting. Teasing. Drifter grinned, slow, knowing, as Spider flicked his gaze back to his face. Spider narrowed his eyes.

“You say you’re not patient,” Drifter said, voice low, smug. “Am I your exception?”

Spider huffed noncommittally. “You always have plans,” he said. “My curiosity gets the better of me when it comes to your little schemes.”

Drifter’s hand pressed lightly against Spider’s cuirass as he leaned close, his other arm straining to hold the cable. “You know this is a terrible deal.”

“Probably the worst I’ve ever made.”

“As long as you’re aware of that.”

“I can live with the consequences. I have for years.”

“Mm. Times are changing, though, Spider.”

Spider reached forward, finally, claws brushing the buckle of Drifter’s belt, almost idly. “Then let them. I can adapt. That’s why we’re meeting here now.”

“Yeah, and it sucks here,” Drifter snorted. “Only decent thing’s the company.”

“I’m not inclined to disagree,” he said wryly. His claw lazily unlatched the buckle, letting Drifter’s belt fall to the ground with a soft thump. 

“Ha, there it is,” Drifter chuckled. “Your patience gettin’ thin. Cute.”

Spider growled in warning. A hand reached up to grip Drifter’s wrist. The only change to the Lightbearer’s expression was an increase of the smugness of his grin. 

“C’mon, then,” Drifter said, goading. His leg nudged Spider’s. “Gotta be fair, right?”

Spider narrowed his eyes, but let one of his other hands move to his own waist. 

Drifter kept eye contact as Spider unlatched the pieces of his armor, gauntlets and wrappings set aside without a glance. Drifter’s fingers tapped his chest lightly, pressing a little harder. The throne creaked with the shifting weight. 

Spider set aside the shawl that covered his legs, mechanical from the knees down. He released Drifter’s arm.

Drifter shifted his hand more toward Spider’s shoulder and braced his other foot against the footrest, between Spider’s mechanical claws. “Much better,” Drifter said, almost purring. His hand dropped from the cable and with a grunt, he was half-kneeling on Spider’s throne, the other leg shoved against Spider’s, all but straddling him. He reached for Spider’s mask and pulled at the latches of his rebreather.

Spider slid a hand under Drifter’s coat, and then another, and growled softly when he heard him chuckle. Drifter’s hand paused, letting Spider take a long, deep breath, before pulling off his rebreather and setting it aside. 

“Fine?” Drifter asked.

Spider clicked his mandibles at him. “As ever,” he replied. 

Drifter hummed in acknowledgement and shifted forward further. Spider plucked at the folds of his clothes as hot breath washed over his jaw.

Spider wasn’t sure if it was fortunate or not that Drifter was both old and crazy enough to have long since discovered where Eliksni were most sensitive. He wasn’t sure he really cared, either, especially not with blunt teeth scraping against the flesh under his jaw, where the Ether vessels coursing through him were under the highest pressure. He heard his breath rasp through his serrated teeth as Drifter’s much warmer body pressed against his with a lazy roll of the Lightbearer’s hips. 

He was almost startled by Drifter tapping lightly at the side of his armor. “Ether channel’s over here, right? In the throne, to your armor?”

Spider grunted in agreement and reluctantly took a hand back for a moment to close the valve from his throne, cutting off his Ether. “Nearly forgot.”

“Ha. See, I’m lookin’ out for you,” Drifter said. He hissed a little at the chill of Spider’s claws as he finally wormed his way through the layers of clothes.

“How kind of you,” Spider said dryly, re-charting the familiar scars under his fingers. He remained wary of his claws, for the moment, at least. Humans were so fragile, even those chosen by the Great Machine.  Spider’s claws could all too easily leave their mark on his flesh. 

Not that Drifter was often opposed to that.

“Sheesh, your hands are cold,” Drifter grumbled, settling forward, his back arching just a little against Spider’s claws. 

“Should I apologize?” It was sarcastic.

“Nah. S’good.” Drifter’s attention was returning to Spider’s throat, the heat of his mouth stark against the chill of Ether. His hands, too, were beginning to wander, territory as familiar to him as Drifter’s was to Spider. “Space heater in here might not be a bad idea.”

“Should I hire you for interior decorating next?” Spider asked. His voice rasped despite his efforts as Drifter’s teeth scraped the tender flesh of his throat.

Drifter chuckled against him, a hand now awkwardly working at more clasps on Spider’s cuirass. “That would not be a good idea. You can ask any Guardian about the Derelict. I mean, if you want me to start moving in sentient houseplants and  _ probably  _ defunct Vex constructions…”

“You are a magnet for trouble.”

“Ha. Should I call you Trouble, then?”

Spider would’ve rolled his eyes if he could. He wouldn’t admit that was almost charming, even though it was really stupid. Humans were so weird, and Drifter was even more so.

He reached for the cloth Drifter wore wrapped around his head and slid a claw under it, tugging it up and off his head. Drifter’s shoulders twitched as his claws caught on his hair a little.

“Easy,” Drifter muttered. “We’re just gettin’ started.”

“It’s a little slow going.”

“I promised an hour. Ain’t any fun without a little foreplay, Spider. Thought you knew this.” Drifter nudged his knee forward and scraped his blunt nails against the more sensitive flesh between the plates on his side--when had he unlatched his armor enough to do that? “I’ve got plenty of time. We can drag this out.”

Spider felt a rumble in his chest that coiled through his torso. “Well, I suppose I can admit, that does sound… quite agreeable.”

“Good,” Drifter said, voice low, as close to a growl as humans could manage, and Spider’s breath rasped in a little sharper.

Drifter gave a more insistent bite to Spider’s throat, earning light pricks into his sides and a hiss, before sitting back. He withdrew both hands and ignored Spider’s offended glare. The glare quickly vanished when Drifter tugged off his coat with an almost lazy, fluid motion, holding it to nearly brush the floor for a moment before it dematerialized in transmat.

Spider could admit another thing--he liked this view. The Drifter, straddling him with strong legs, his shirt hiked up by Spider’s roving claws, revealing pale, scarred flesh over centuries-earned lean muscle, his hair tousled and his eyes dark, that sly grin spreading on his face again. 

Drifter knew it, too. 

Drifter arched his spine into Spider’s hungry touch, tightening his thighs around Spider’s to keep himself balanced, before leaning forward to finish his almost too patient work on Spider’s armor. Spider helped him with one hand, his lower pair refusing to release their hold on Drifter’s waist. He relished the little twitches of the muscle of his stomach in time with the light grazing of his claws above his hip bones and against his ribs. 

His cuirass finally removed, Spider moved it aside to promptly forget it as Drifter’s hands came down, followed immediately by teeth and a flat, hot tongue. Spider couldn’t stop the small shudder through him from Drifter’s experienced touch. Drifter, for his part, didn’t mention the way Spider’s business leader persona was starting to crumble away, the way it always did with this arrogant, intelligent, unpredictable Lightbearer. 

After all, Drifter wasn’t much different.

He was nearly doubled over, lavishing the spaces between Spider’s natural armor plates with attention from his mouth and his fingers, making up for the softness of his human body with heat and enthusiasm and persistence. Spider felt it under his plating, building in his gut, Ether and blood coursing quicker. 

Touches growing hungrier, Spider tapped Drifter twice with a claw, making him sit up with a light gasp. Without a word, Spider tugged at his shirt, and Drifter grunted, moving to help him. Spider didn’t give him the chance to transmat it, dropping it beside his own armor, all four eyes devouring him.

Drifter shivered when Spider lazily ran his fingers over his chest. “Thought I was supposed to be the one giving you all the attention today,” he said, even as he leaned into the touch.

“Are you complaining?” Spider purred, his fingers brushing the narrow scarring around his nipple. 

“I can't say I am, no.” Drifter allowed the attention for a few seconds more. Spider clicked softly at the way his tough scars and coarse hair felt under his fingers, the way Drifter's fingers tightened and his jaw twitched and his throat bobbed with a dry swallow. 

Spider huffed when Drifter nudged his hand away and leaned in again. Drifter grinned. “Touchy today?” he asked. 

Spider bared his teeth and hissed as Drifter drew a nail along the edge of Spider's armor low on his torso. He could feel his plates shifting, a damp pressure growing underneath them. He refused to completely remove his hands from the Drifter’s skin, but his touches were lighter, letting Drifter have a little more focus.

He felt Drifter shift, his broad shoulders tensing under Spider’s hands as he leaned down again. One hand braced against Spider’s shoulder as the other continued to tease the plates on Spider’s abdomen. His teeth--Spider was ever so grateful for their bluntness--nipped at the ones on his chest, warm, wet breath washing over the sensitive spiracles between them. Spider tightened his claws and slotted his teeth together.

Drifter’s hips moved, just a little, just enough. A slow grin grew on Spider’s face as he raised up his leg a little to meet the Lightbearer’s languid little thrusts. 

Drifter stuttered for just a moment, and Spider felt a little thrill of victory. 

Emboldened by Drifter’s lapse, Spider moved an upper hand to his hair and lowered another to grip Drifter’s thigh and tug him closer with a soft, hungry growl.

Drifter cursed with a sharper thrust into Spider’s leg. “Ah, shit--hey, hey, c’mon.”

Spider chuckled, digging his claws a bit into Drifter’s thigh. He let two eyes close to focus on the feeling of him hardening against him. His plates were more insistent in their parting.

He should have expected the same bold behavior by now. Still, Drifter’s fingers seeking the partition of his pelvic plate brought a sharp hiss from his teeth. Spider’s shoulders twitched, a small arch to his back, as the Drifter pressed his fingers against him and urged his plates apart.

“So impatient,” Drifter murmured. “We’ll play it your way, then, for now.” 

Spider could only growl as Drifter’s fingers met slick, sensitive flesh, jolting heat through Spider’s gut. He found himself wishing his throne was larger, caught between wanting to open his legs more and still enjoying Drifter’s lazy thrusts against him. Drifter was creative, though, and surprisingly flexible for his broad shoulders and square frame. Almost a combination of Hunter and Titan--

The thought cut short with Drifter’s insistent fingers rubbing against his aedeagus as it slowly slipped from its sheath. Spider hissed in a curse in Eliksni at his warm touch, giving a small jerk of his own hips. His plate was fully separated, fluid starting to build in earnest, swelling in his palpal bulb with the encouraging strokes of Drifter’s sure touch that sent bolts up through his groin all the way to his chest. 

Drifter squeezed his thighs around Spider’s as he touched and pulled at him. He sat back, eyes dark and hungry for each inch of slick gray flesh that slid from Spider’s body. His thumb paid particular attention to the lighter, tapered tip, spilling more fluid from the tiny gonopores and earning a low, long growl. 

Drifter’s voice was low, rough, eager, as he spoke. “Got any particular preferences?”

Spider tugged on Drifter’s thigh and thrust into his hand. “You can do whatever you want,” he said, after a brief pause to remember how humans made their words.

Drifter grinned and squeezed him. “Fuck, I love when you say that. That’s my favorite thing to hear outta your mouth.” 

“Just remember.” Spider pulled lightly at Drifter’s hair, clicking in approval at the groan and the rut against his thigh. “You promised an hour.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I can keep up.”

A shiver laced down Spider’s spine at the promise. Far too often, they had to keep these meetings short, leaving both of them not entirely satisfied. Spider was fairly sure humans couldn’t last as long as Eliksni. They were so small, mostly monogamous. He’d never gotten the chance to see just how long the Drifter could do this. An hour, for Eliksni, wasn’t terribly long, but better than usual. Spider knew some humans could have at it for just as long as Eliksni, but he didn’t know about Drifter. 

And if he was honest, which he sometimes was, he would probably be just as pleased to have Drifter’s fingers wrapped around his aedeagus for the next hour as anything else. The heat of him--humans were so warm, all the time--was so stark against the Ether chill, the lukewarm of his own body.

The touch moved downwards, to the slowly swelling bulb at the base of his length, fingers tracing the ridges and bumps of the thicker flesh where it met the less sensitive keratin of the sheath that just barely extended from his body. Spider shuddered as Drifter pressed against the ridges, rubbing the underside, and then--

“This alright?” Drifter asked, breathy, a finger pressing just on the outside of his ovipore. 

Spider was amazed he hadn’t ripped Drifter’s pants into shreds yet with how tightly he was holding him. “Yes,” he managed, the word more of a growl than anything else.

Spider’s eyes closed as a finger sank into him. So strange, narrow, stiff, hot--but remarkably dextrous, as Drifter slowly rubbed along the ventral wall, lavishing the swollen ribbed flesh with languid but persistent attention. Spider could smell the Ether in his fluid, like ozone and copper, cloying the air. 

Drifter pressed in another finger. Spider tightened his stomach with a shuddering hiss, his breath rasping. It was torture, how slowly Drifter was fucking him on his fingers, a torture he would gladly endure for the rest of both of their very long lives if he could. 

Spider blinked his eyes open when he felt Drifter shifting with a small grunt. His hand pressed down on Spider’s thigh, fingers tense, like he was trying desperately not to touch himself even as Spider felt his heat and hardness. Spider chittered and tugged at his hair again, stuttering Drifter’s fingers in him and earning a low, keening curse. 

Drifter added a third finger and wiggled them, stretching Spider’s ovipore around him. It did take a bit for Spider to feel any sort of stretch, being so much larger than his human partner, but Drifter was very determined. Spider’s aedeagus twitched, searching for pressure, aching for contact that Spider was only getting from the inside. Unnatural, but so very welcome.

Suddenly, Drifter’s hand went still, fingers pressed against Spider’s walls. Spider hissed, jerking his hips, eyes narrowing, but Drifter leaned close, his fingers curled with that constant pressure. Spider could smell his breath, cinnamon and shadows, and Spider stilled.

“Tell me again. How many times can you come?” Drifter asked, his voice barely a whisper. 

Spider clicked, breathing sharp and shallow.

“How many times do you want to?” Drifter rephrased. His eyes were intense, the blue nearly swallowed by the black of his iris, dark with his arousal. “‘Cause I’m willing to test it. It has been… way too long since we did this. And I’ll be honest. Every time I’ve touched myself lately? I’m thinkin’ of all the shit we’ve done. Everything that I wanna do to you. And you to me. Maybe it was losin’ the Light for a while that shook me all up, and you’re the only person I’ve ever fucked who’s been just as crazy as me, and no one else has ever come close to makin’ me come nearly as hard as you have. There are a million different things I want to do. We can’t get to all of ‘em in the next fifty minutes, but we can sure get started.” He paused. “That said. I’m not gonna do a damn thing you’re not okay with. Alright? Need you to tell me what’s going on. Say stop and I’ll stop.”

Spider felt almost choked. He blinked each eye individually, searching for breath and words. When his brain and his jaw caught up, he tightened his claws on the Drifter. “You stop, and I’ll kill you,” he said, a plea veiled as an empty threat. “You have no idea how insufferable it’s been here.”

Drifter grinned slowly. “Guess I’ll help with that. Bet I can fuck some of the stress outta ya.”

Spider shivered and clenched around Drifter’s fingers, wishing he’d just move again already. “Very kind of you. But you’ve been pretty tense lately too, haven’t you? Allow me to return the favor.”

He nearly groaned out in relief when Drifter curled his fingers and slowly thrust them into him, with only a shuddering hiss to give him away. “Sure. But lemme take care of you first. As many times as you want.”

Spider growled low as Drifter started fucking him with his fingers again. He felt fluid dripping down over his thighs. He was also keenly aware of Drifter starting to rut against him again. 

As good as Drifter’s fingers were, there was something more interesting to the Spider.

The hand on Drifter’s thigh slowly slid up, earning a little squirm and a huff when Spider squeezed his ass, before he carefully hooked a claw under the top of his pants. 

“You’re going to have to move,” Spider murmured. “I can rip them easily.”

Drifter barked a breathless laugh. “Got the message. You’ll have to give me a sec.”

Spider shuddered as Drifter withdrew his fingers. His ovipore clenched on nothing, immediately needing something touching him again. He pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth and watched Drifter move, slowly unbending with a grunt and having to catch himself again. Spider reached all his hands now to help, two to keep him balanced on the creaking throne, and two to help free him of his buckles. 

He didn’t notice when Drifter transmatted his boots, but he didn’t really care, anyway, as his pants fell unceremoniously to the floor. Spider would have licked his lips if he had any.

“Oh, shit, that’s cold,” Drifter hissed with an aggressive shudder when Spider closed a hand over his shaft. “Fuck.”

“Do you--”

“If you stop, I’ll die.”

Spider scoffed, but was more than happy to slowly jerk him as his other hands roamed the newly revealed flesh, just as scarred as the rest of his body. Another hand eagerly returned to Drifter’s chest, lazily fondling a nipple.

He knew Drifter wasn’t as sensitive as other human men, just in one particular spot. Something something gender surgery effects, Spider didn’t really understand. All he needed to know was where to touch Drifter to get him dripping as many curses around his name as possible.

Speaking of dripping. Spider was very careful sliding his hand up the inside of Drifter’s thigh into the much warmer, clear fluid leaking from him. Something about that surgery thing again, but Drifter shuddered at the nearness of Spider’s claws to such tender flesh. He wished he’d known Drifter was coming by; he would have clipped at least one claw down. Too bad; maybe next time. 

Drifter’s knees bumped the throne as he pitched forward when Spider’s hand on his cock found the sensitive spot at the base of it. Drifter’s hands blindly scrabbled at Spider’s armor as he thrusted into Spider’s hand.

“Fuck, fuckin’--wait, wait,” Drifter panted. “I was gonna--I was--fuck, Spider, shit, that’s good--but you gotta--” 

Spider stilled his hand, letting the man catch a breath. When Drifter pressed on his wrist, he released him immediately, and his other hands paused as well.

Drifter’s fingers tightened against Spider’s stomach as he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m gonna fuckin’ fall off,” he grumbled. He wet his lips, and Spider watched the movement in interest. “Don’t you let me.”

“I’d never,” Spider said.

Drifter dipped a hand down to Spider’s aedeagus again, and Spider shuddered at the touch, and then couldn’t stop the low rumble as his fingers dipped into his ovipore, thrusting at his walls. 

Spider realized what Drifter was doing when he pulled his slick-covered hand back and reached for his dick. Spider slid his teeth together, Ether swirling loud in his throat, watching Drifter slowly jerk himself with Spider’s fluid. 

Drifter’s dark eyes flicked up to Spider. That smug grin again. Drifter tapped Spider’s thigh with his other hand. “Gonna have to meet me halfway.”

Spider scoffed a bit, but let go of him with two hands in order to push himself forward. The throne creaked loudly, but neither paid it mind now. 

Drifter braced a hand on Spider’s shoulder, the other staying on his cock. Spider pressed his knees against the armrests, tugging Drifter closer with his lower arms. His length twitched aggressively, desperately. 

Drifter cursed softly as his aedeagus brushed his cock and eagerly twitched against the heat, slick drooling from the seeking, tapered tip of it. Drifter thrust against him, catching him in his hand too and giving a few swift jerks that had Spider panting for breath.

He didn’t give more than a couple seconds of that before leaning forward, his cock sliding lower along his aedeagus, guiding himself down until the head was nudging against Spider’s sheath and the opening of his ovipore.

Drifter was breathing hard when he glanced up, silently asking permission. 

Spider dug his claws into Drifter’s hips with a wordless growl of need.

Stiff heat filled Spider and his eyes shut at the feeling. Drifter moved slow, pressing himself in, probably enjoying the ribbed walls as much as Spider enjoyed having that warmth against them. Even the old, faded surgical scarring from a long-ago life was just a little more texture that made him clench down. 

Alien as it always was, Spider shuddered at the fire. Unrelenting and stiff and heavy, it didn’t seek anything within him, it just filled him, friction from Drifter’s shallow, patient  thrusts pushing him in further. Spider’s length groped at Drifter’s hips, scraping against the thick, coarse hair and leaving trails of Ether-stained slick. The warm, quivering flesh of Drifter’s hips met the cold hard plates of Spider’s thighs as the Drifter settled his cock as deep into Spider as possible.

Drifter’s hand fell away, resting at Spider’s hip, thumb pressing against the edges of his plating. He breathed shallowly, shaking a little.

Spider had just a bit of stretch. Drifter was thicker than any Eliksni aedeagus, except perhaps that of a Kell, and far more firm. Spider was slick enough and large enough that there was only a slight, though certainly welcome, twinge of stretching muscle around his ovipore. He clutched Drifter’s hips, keeping him still for a few seconds, before relaxing with a single tap of his claw. 

Drifter breathed out a groan and gave a bright, dangerous grin before he leaned back, pulling himself out, scraping that heat against every ridge inside Spider. Spider knew that grin, and tightened his hands in preparation. 

He still cursed out in Eliksni as Drifter snapped his hips forward, giving no pause as he retreated and thrust back in, leaning forward over him, fucking with force over pace. Spider’s ovipore welcomed every move with ecstacy, his own hips shifting to meet him, panting breaths hissing from his teeth. Each time, his length was squeezed between them, a burst of pressure that left it twitching.

Drifter leaned forward, panting, small grunts escaping his throat. He slowed, but before Spider could snarl in protest, Drifter slid a hand under Spider’s thigh. “Lift,” he grunted.

Spider was, almost embarrassingly, too desperate now to berate him for the command. He shifted, letting Drifter raise his leg to the side, on his armrest. He growled low as Drifter moved inside him when the Lightbearer took as much of the little remaining space on the throne as he could to get a better position, almost kneeling between Spider’s legs.

As soon as Drifter gave a shallow thrust, however, Spider’s claws tightened. He thrust right against the sensitive ventral wall, hard enough that Spider’s thighs trembled.

Drifter grinned in victory before returning to his slow, sharp fucking. 

Spider’s lower hands were thoughtlessly gripping him, feeling the muscles in his back ripple with his movements, the shift of his fragile, calloused flesh, the heat of his blood, the sharp angles of his bones. One of his upper hands found Drifter’s hair, earning a jolted thrust and a hiss as Drifter angled his head into his claws. 

“Fuck,” Drifter swore, the word spitting from his wet lips, one hand tight on Spider’s thigh and the other pressing into his torso. “And this--this is just--just round one. ‘M gonna make you forget how to talk.”

Spider didn’t bother to stop the rasped groan, gripping Drifter’s hair a little harder.

He keened lowly. “Shit, Spider, you feel good.”

Spider didn’t get the chance to reply, because Drifter moved his hand to his aedeagus and began to stroke and squeeze him in time with his thrusts. He heard Drifter talking--still talking, Light save him, it was a good thing Spider liked the sound of his voice--but the words were senseless as everything in Spider’s mind centered around the heat and the friction and being touched and filled and fucked without a care--

Drifter’s thumb rubbed the soft tip of his aedeagus just as he snapped his hips a little differently, maybe not on purpose, but Spider hissed in sharp, eyes flying open, every claw tightening and muscle tensing with the solid heat against his swollen ridges.

He didn’t stop.

Spider rasped shallow, rapid breaths, muscles clenching, fluid leaking over Drifter’s hand and surely over his legs but he kept fucking him through it, slower, but just as insistent, sending a burning static through Spider’s ovipore that rippled out with every thrust.

He could see the static in his eyes now at the edges of his vision, limbs twitching, almost keening with every jolt inside of him. 

Without a warning, Drifter pulled out of him, letting Spider catch his breath and the throbbing in his groin ease.

Just for a moment. 

He swore again as Drifter pressed his fingers into his ovipore, giving a few quick thrusts before withdrawing. Spider stared at him, not sure if he should be offended by the unceremonious fingering after that unbelievably good fuck, only to choke on his Ether when Drifter reached behind himself with his slick-covered hand and groan out a curse.

Spider couldn’t catch his breath like this, watching Drifter’s cock dripping with Ether-streaked fluids bobbing with his motions, panting and staring directly at him as he fingered himself with Spider’s come as lubricant. 

Drifter grinned, loose and toothy, absolutely trying to put on a show. Spider itched to touch him, but he was too enraptured watching him writhe at his own touch.

After several seconds of near silence, the only sounds their ragged breathing, Drifter’s soft cursing, and the wet sound of his fingers in his ass, Spider moved.

Drifter shuddered as Spider closed fingers around his cock, slippery with his own come. He rubbed that very sensitive area almost gingerly. Drifter whined, his arm shaking, trying to thrust into Spider’s hand while also leaning back onto his own fingers. 

“Ah, fuck--sh, stop, stop,” Drifter gasped out, and Spider dropped his hand immediately. Drifter pressed his other hand to Spider’s chest, leaning forward, panting heavily. “Way too close,” he explained. “Got somethin’ else planned, if you’re up for round two yet.”

He wasn’t wholly certain, but eager to see what Drifter had in mind. “I'm interested,” he purred. 

Drifter moved his hand and cursed. He breathed in and pulled out his fingers, a tremor going through him. “Hey, where'd you put my headband?”

“Your what?”

Drifter gestured to his head. “Headband.”

Spider clicked uncertainly for a second before he found it.

Drifter grinned. “Perfect,” he said, voice low and dangerous. He took his headband and moved to let Spider sit straight again. When he positioned himself, strong legs draped open over Spider's lap, Spider shivered. 

“What devious little scheme do you have in mind?” Spider purred, lower claws scraping along a long scar across Drifter's back. 

From seemingly nowhere Drifter procured one of his oblong jade coins. He flipped it between his dexterous fingers. “I can't decide if I'd rather you fuck me while my hands are tied, or I fuck myself on you and you can't touch me. So.” He presented one side of the coin. “Dealer's choice, or” --he twirled it in his fingers-- “let fate decide?” 

Spider liked control. He liked knowing exactly what was happening, he liked people listening to him, he liked every situation as secure, predictable, in his favor as possible.

How could this arrogant Lightbearer be the one reason for him to relinquish his control?

His eyes watched the coin shimmer prettily between Drifter's fingers and hissed softly. “I'll bite,” he said. “Flip for it.”

Drifter barked a laugh. “That was what I was hoping for. Heads, I get tied, tails, it’s you?”

“Sounds fair.”

He wanted hands on him again. 

Spider could feel his aedeagus twitching in interest again, fluid building again in the base. Drifter was sitting just far enough on his lap that they didn't touch. The frustration was worth it with his eyes on the coin when Drifter tossed it in the air and reached a hand to catch it.

Drifter turned his hand over, not looking at the coin yet, and pressed it to his other wrist. He looked up and smiled, not quite as innocently as he was going for. “I'm not gonna look at it,” he said. “You tell me what it says.”

Spider's throat rumbled with a low growl.

He was giving him permission to lie, if he wanted to. 

Drifter angled his head away and lifted his hand. The coin glinted.

Spider stared at the symbol with narrowed eyes. He felt his aedeagus twitch.

“Well?” Drifter asked.

Spider tightened his claws.

“Tails,” he said.

Drifter grinned. With a swift move, he flicked his arm and the coin vanished in the flourish. He leaned up, knees jamming a little into Spider’s legs as he pressed his hands to Spider’s arms and bit at his throat for a few seconds. Spider lifted his chin, lower hands roving Drifter’s back and lightly running his claws over his ass.

“We’ll have to get a little creative,” Drifter purred. “You’ve got a few more arms than I do, I don’t think I can wrap this around all of ‘em.” He wiggled the headband still held in one hand. “Not that I don’t trust you can keep your hands to yourself, but… it’s much more fun this way.”

“Your belt’s still on the floor.”

Drifter inhaled with a small grimace. “Mm, but I really don’t feel like moving all the way down there to get it… Hm, actually…”

Spider nearly salivated as Drifter pressed close, reaching around him for Spider’s discarded armor pieces. He felt Drifter’s cock against his stomach, still hard and slick with his fluid, his skin almost burning on Spider’s cool keratin plates. 

Drifter’s movements fumbled as Spider scrapped needle-sharp teeth over his collarbone. “H-hey now,” he warned.

Spider chittered wordlessly and opened his jaw to let his tongue taste the salt on Drifter’s skin. There was still that cinnamon and shadow scent-flavor, though Spider wondered if the shadowy smell was more prevalent than it had been in the past. The thought was fleeting as something metal rattled and Drifter gripped Spider’s helmet, keeping him still, to rut against his stomach a few times.

Spider growled in warning, digging in his teeth just a little. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to make him shudder. Drifter’s hand dropped from his helmet. 

Apparently having found what he wanted, Drifter slid back down to straddle Spider. He’d worked some of the belt-like straps from Spider’s armor. Spider narrowed his eyes, though a pulse of interest twitched in his pelvic plate. “I hope you’ll put that back later,” he said.

Drifter laughed. “Might need a reminder, ‘cause I’m planning on both of us remembering about as much as a fresh-rezzed Guardian by the end of this.”

Spider could see the little red marks his light biting had made already paling on Drifter’s collarbone. He wanted to deepen them, leave imprints of his teeth across Drifter’s chest that his Light couldn’t heal fast enough. He pressed his tongue against the back row of his teeth.

Drifter held out the belt, wiggling the end of it a little. “You ready? You’re gonna have to let me move you a bit when I tie you. Say if it’s too tight, or anything, alright? It’d be a real mood killer if I accidentally tourniquet you and your arms fall off. Even if they’ll grow back.”

“I doubt that would happen,” Spider scoffed. His Ether pulsed fast as Drifter’s nail drew slowly along the plate on the underside of Spider’s forearm. Though barely sensitive at all, the context had him leaking with anticipation.

Slowly, Drifter took Spider’s hand and looped one of the belts around the plating. He grunted as he half-stood, pulling Spider’s arm with him. Spider watched him pull the belt around one of the heavy cables holding up the throne and rasped dryly when Drifter cinched it tight. 

“Good?” Drifter asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Spider gave an experimental pull. He clicked his mandibles. “A… little tighter.”

Drifter raised an eyebrow, but obliged. “Better?”

Spider hissed softly through his teeth, an ache in his groin, desperate for Drifter’s heat. “Yes. Much.”

“Alright. Two.” His mouth twitched into a grin as Spider lifted another arm, but at Spider’s warning glare, didn’t say anything. One by one, Drifter tied each of Spider’s arms, humming softly and occasionally biting lightly at the edges of the plates of his arms, especially the crease of his elbows, almost playfully. 

When Spider’s last arm was tied, Drifter settled back on Spider’s lap to admire his handiwork as Spider struggled for breath. 

While not the first time he’d let the Lightbearer bind him, he was usually in his real hideaway, not this still mostly unfamiliar bunker. He had less control here, and if he were a less confident and assured Eliksni he might not be as eager to let such a dangerous man restrict him like this.

But with the look on Drifter’s face, a hunger like the most starved Dreg presented with a fountain of Ether, Spider didn’t really mind. Perhaps Drifter’s wild, adventurous nature had been influencing him. 

“Ain’t that a sight and a half,” Drifter purred, a hand lazily beginning to stroke himself. “System’s most powerful syndicate’s leader, tied up so pretty, just for me. Might need a moment here, Spider, I wanna really remember this, ‘cause just thinkin’ about seein’ you like this is gonna be more than enough to get me off when it’ll be just me and ol’ lefty later.”

Spider bared his teeth, ovipore clenching on nothing, aedeagus twitching. He just needed him to touch him already, but he couldn’t help the shiver of pride when he tightened his arms under Drifter’s devouring eyes and he gripped himself a little tighter at nothing more than just looking at him.

Drifter shivered and reluctantly released himself to pluck at his headband wrapped around one wrist. “Got another idea, if you’re into it.”

Spider took a moment to collect himself enough to remember how to speak English. “Let’s hear it.”

“So… one thing we’ve never done is a blindfold. Too paranoid for sensory deprivation.” Drifter snorted. “But, fuck it, right? I’ve come way too close this past year to a real, final death, think I can throw a little caution to the wind at this point. I’m just wondering if you’d be into that. You had a little shake-up. Wouldn’t blame ya for wanting your eyes open. But I’d love to get my hands on you without you knowin’ where and when until I’m already touching you.”

Spider’s hips twitched without his input, almost choking on his Ether, a low growl deep in his chest. “If you wanted me dead, you would have killed me a very long time ago,” Spider said after a few seconds of deliberation, speaking slowly, with caution, consideration. “I think--and if it’s otherwise the case, I will say as much--I am willing to try it.”

Drifter grinned, hungry and eager. He raised himself up to reach for Spider’s helmet. Spider held still, letting him slowly take it off, more of his attention on Drifter’s cock just barely brushing the plating of his stomach. His fingers itched to grab him. 

The weight on his head lightened, and Drifter set his helmet to the side. His warm fingers traced along the keratin plates on his head, nails scraping against softer flesh, teasing and testing. 

Drifter withdrew and raised his wrist to his face. Spider watched him tug the headband wound around his arm with his teeth. It wasn’t, honestly, quite as arousing as Drifter probably thought, but that in of itself was charming enough to make up for it. 

“Okay,” Drifter murmured, leaning forward with the band. “Eyes closed.”

Spider closed all four eyes and waited. 

The cloth was warm from Drifter’s skin. Drifter was careful, navigating around his plates, until Spider felt the cloth settle over his eyes. Drifter’s hands withdrew.

“Alright. You good?” Drifter asked.

Spider could smell his breath, feel his warmth. He pulled a low breath through his teeth, sharp and rough deep in his throat. “Yes,” he said.

Drifter’s breath was hot against his throat just a moment before his teeth nibbled against his Ether vessel. A finger pressed lightly against the arousal-swollen skin above the vessel, hot against the natural Ether-chill. Drifter’s beard scraped lightly against him, making him shiver.

“Can I admit something?” Drifter said, each word a rush of warm, wet air against Spider. “Been wanting to try this for a while. You don’t even know how fucking good you look like this. Get a man harder than steel just lookin’ at you.” 

Drifter’s other hand brushed against his side, teasing the flesh where Spider’s lower arm connected to his torso. 

“Lettin’ me hold the reins for a little while is… really somethin’,” Drifter said, slowly moving his hips to rub himself against Spider. “I can’t--you just--fuck, I don’t know what you do to me, Spider. Makin’ me want to spend the next year just touching you while you’re like this. I can feel your arms shaking a little bit.”

The last sentence was almost teasing. Spider clenched two fists, only for his hands to jerk as Drifter sucked lightly at his vessel. The hand on his waist withdrew. Spider waited, despite the distraction of that hot, wet mouth biting gently at his skin. 

He didn’t expect the touch right to the tip of his length and gasped sharply. Drifter stroked him slowly, curling his fingers around the searching tip and rubbing at the bumps on the swelling base. Fluid was dripping--Spider could feel it pooling from between his legs, slicking the insides of his plates on his thighs. Copper, rain, cinnamon--the scents were dizzying. Shadows and salt, from Drifter, and something more musky, familiar. 

Spider wanted to feel the slick from Drifter, knowing it was hot and viscous and somewhere between earthy and sweet. The smell of Drifter’s arousal alone was intoxicating. A good part of him wished he had less sharp, dangerous teeth so he could taste him.

Most of him, however, was far more preoccupied with the hand gathering his fluid. When Drifter pulled back, Spider’s hips jerked after him, the cables creaking. 

Drifter chuckled low, still running his tongue over the top of his pectoral plate. There was a wet sound, and Drifter shuddered with a hissed curse.

Spider felt his movements shifting, and groaned a low growl when he realized Drifter had started fingering himself again.

“I’m gonna ride you until my legs fall off,” Drifter promised, panting. He bit down a bit more roughly, and Spider felt his cock bump his stomach with the snap of his hips. “If I’m not so full of you I go blind, then I’m not doin’ something right.”

Spider wanted to touch him, make him stop saying anything that wasn’t his name or an expletive, wanted to grip his aedeagus himself, wanted to cling to Drifter’s hips. 

Drifter’s mouth vanished, and Spider turned his face, betrayal in the click of his mandibles, before the hand squeezing his length picked up the pace, this time focusing on the sensitive spots. The underside of the tip, the entire swollen base, finger teasing around the empty yearning in his ovipore. He tried to rut back into his hand, but Drifter eased his touch.

When he spoke again, his voice was soft and near. “You’re still so impatient aren’t you? Didn’t anyone tell you that good things come to those who wait?”

Spider wanted to growl something about coming, but his tongue wouldn’t cooperate, English dying behind his mandibles with a groan at the heat that bumped his aedeagus. He didn’t need his fingers to explore Drifter’s cock, the searching tip roaming against him and rubbing itself along him.

“Ha, fuck--easy, Spider, shit, I don't wanna--don't wanna come till that's in me.”

“Hard to be patient,” Spider managed, “with such a delicious treat in my web.”

Drifter laughed, loud, breathless. “Which one of us is wrapped up ready to be served?”

Spider didn’t get the chance to respond, because Drifter was moving again, a light hiss of his breath close to Spider’s chest and his legs tight, trembling slightly, keeping him balanced. Spider’s fingers twitched, his arms tensing, when Drifter’s hand stroked both of them together. He jerked when Drifter’s other hand, the fingers warm and wet, came down on his hip, encouraging him to stay still.

“Still good?” Drifter asked, the words a breath.

A desperate snarl rumbled through Spider’s throat. He wasn’t trying to pull at the restraints, but he needed Drifter to do something. 

“Need to hear it,” Drifter said. There was a light quiver to his voice now. “Tell me what you want, Spider.”

Spider leaned forward as much as he could, seeking Drifter by smell. When he could taste his breath, he angled his face, hoping he was hissing into his ear. “I want you to make good on your promise. I want to hear you cursing my name. I want you to get yourself off on me without me touching you. I want you to fill yourself with me and try to tell me how it feels, but you won’t remember how to say anything that isn’t my name.”

Drifter shuddered. Spider felt his hair brush against his face, warmth just barely touching against his mandibles. “Fuck,” he rasped, jerking his hips. 

“If I don’t feel you around me in the next four seconds--” Spider started.

Drifter moved fast, hands almost fumbling. He pressed forward, lifting himself on his shaking legs, still stroking and squeezing Spider. Spider’s breathing was shallow, an electric pulse through his hips.

His aedeagus touched something warm, slick, guided forward by Drifter’s hand, and Spider tensed as it sought more of that heat. 

Drifter let out an absolutely filthy moan as he lowered himself and his hand fell away to press to Spider’s stomach. Spider felt his heat around him, more and more, tightening around him as he twitched and nearly writhed inside Drifter.

Spider breathed a curse as his fluid-filled bulb pressed against Drifter. The ridges rubbed against his rim, making Drifter inhale sharp, breathy moans.

Drifter rolled his hips, working Spider’s bulb into himself as the eager, narrow end of his aedeagus pulsed inside him, rubbing against his walls. 

Spider could imagine his face--eyes half-lidded, jaw dropped, a flush across his cheeks and his hair tousled, begging to be pulled, brow furrowed with determination. He’d seen him like this enough to picture it perfectly. 

With a sharp jerk from Drifter, Spider jolted with a hiss. Drifter made a sound somewhere between a starving whine and a desperate moan. His thighs lay flush against the plating of Spider’s legs, his fingers splayed flat against his stomach. 

Every inch of him was squeezed by wet heat. He was slithering inside of Drifter, his bulb swollen fully within him, pinning in all the fluid seeping from his gonopores as he touched everything he could reach. Spider didn’t have much control over it, but it did precisely what he would have done, anyway. 

Drifter was very still. Spider could feel his thighs shaking. He wasn’t entirely sure, but guessed that he was sitting straight up. He was tight around Spider, the muscles clenched around the swollen bulb that clung to him. 

Spider whispered. “Relax.”

With a gasp, Drifter’s weight moved forward. Spider jerked with the movement. Drifter rolled his hips, the tightness around Spider easing a little.

“Fuck,” Drifter gasped. 

“That’s better,” Spider purred. 

Drifter pressed down on Spider’s stomach, trying to lift his hips. Spider hissed. It wasn’t happening--his bulb was swollen too much inside him. “Ah, shit,” Drifter keened. 

Spider was still moving inside him. He wanted to grab Drifter’s hips, press marks into his skin. “Too determined, were you?” he said, breathlessly teasing.

“Oops.” Drifter wheezed a laugh, settling back down, slowly moving. His cock rubbed up against Spider’s parted pelvic plate. “S’fine,” he slurred, then sucked in a wet breath, swallowed. “Fuckin’ fantastic, s’what it is.”

Spider felt a hand move from his stomach. Drifter moved a little bit, and Spider shuddered when he realized he was wiping saliva from his mouth. 

Even stuck as they were, Drifter was clearly very determined to do something. He shifted his hips, slowly, moving the ridges of Spider’s bulb within him and rolling his cock against Spider’s pelvic plate. 

Spider was amazed that Drifter wasn’t jerking himself off yet. 

“Forgot how big you were,” Drifter said. “Been too long.”

Spider chittered. “I’m four feet taller than you.”

“Shut up, I’m distracted.” Drifter grunted when Spider used all his control to rut his length against his walls. “Fuck, that’s real good… Missed this…”

Drifter ground his cock against Spider, the movements pulling at Spider’s bulb. Drifter dug his fingers into the spaces between his plates. He was rasping for breath, and Spider was almost a little concerned at an almost gurgling groan.

“Are you… alright?” Spider asked, turning his face toward him as best he figured, hoping that he wasn’t killing the Lightbearer, somehow. 

Drifter hummed and swallowed. “Really overestimated myself,” he said. “‘M fine, just… fuck, you feel good, it’s been too damn long since I’ve had you in me, Spider.”

“Please don’t… pass out, or anything.”

Drifter barked out a startled laugh. “Not that dizzy yet. Might’ve been some time, but I’m not that out of the game.”

Spider scoffed and pressed his hips up into Drifter. He couldn’t really thrust into him, and probably wouldn’t have been able to even if Drifter hadn’t jammed himself so securely on his bulb, with his arms bound the way they were. But he did what he could, Drifter’s cock against him and the warm fluid joining Spider’s. 

Spider almost jumped when he felt Drifter’s beard against his chest. Drifter chuckled low and started to nibble and suck at the spaces between his plates again, his moans and pants washing hot over Spider’s spiracles, that salt-cinnamon-shadow smell so strong, all Spider could really focus on for a few seconds. He heard him curse into his chest when Spider’s aedeagus gave a fervent writhe.

One of Drifter’s hands slid down Spider’s stomach, and he felt his knuckles against his plating as Drifter grabbed his cock.

Spider growled and used every ounce of control to still himself. Drifter made a choked, pleading noise.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Spider ordered. “Not yet. Until I say so.”

Drifter sounded nearly strangled, pressing his face into Spider’s chest. “Ah, fuck, Spider--you’re killin’ me--”

Spider rubbed his tip against Drifter’s walls to make him shudder. “I can only imagine your face,” he purred. “How badly you want my claws on you. You wouldn’t admit it, would you?”

Drifter clenched down on him, digging his fingers into his plates. 

“I didn’t think so.”

“Fuck you.” There wasn’t any venom to it, the insult a plea.

“I thought that was what I was doing to you?” Spider laughed, stretching himself as far into him as it would.

Drifter’s hands vanished from him.

He ground down into him, soft whines slipping from what sounded like clenched teeth. 

Without a warning, two warm fingers pressed into Spider’s ovipore.

Spider’s eyes tried to blink open as his shoulders tightened and the throne creaked. He cursed.

“Thinkin’ you’re clever,” Drifter breathed. “Cute, but you’ll have to do better.”

Spider tried not to strain at the straps--he really didn’t want to have to replace them--but he wanted his hands in Drifter’s hair, his fingers in Drifter’s mouth, making him suck on his claws, to occupy that active mouth of his. 

Drifter’s angle wasn’t great. He could only get his fingers into Spider to the second knuckle, but he gave it a good go, less thrusting and more rubbing, trying to reach in far enough. Spider knew what he was looking for.

Spider waited, Ether heavy in his vessels with the anticipation.

Drifter’s fingers just barely brushed the swollen, sensitive ventral wall, just enough to make him shudder with a fresh gush of fluid.

Spider jerked his hips up.

“You can touch yourself now,” he said.

Drifter froze.

“But,” Spider went on, leaning forward toward him, searching for his scent, pulling it in between his serrated, hungry grin, “not your extension.”

“My…”

“I forgot the English word. You know what I mean.”

“Dick? Cock?”

Spider scoffed. “And humans say my language is full of plosives. I don’t care what you call it. Don’t touch it.”

Drifter pressed his fingers as deep as he could into Spider, tightening around him at the same time. “Then I’ll finger myself.”

“I don’t need to see a show to enjoy it.”

Spider hissed as Drifter withdrew his fingers. A moment later, he felt Drifter’s slick-covered hand against his pelvic plate, and Drifter leaned back a bit.

When the Lightbearer moved forward again, it was with a low moan.

“Now I’m wishin’ you were in this one,” Drifter breathed out. “But then again, I’d probably have come the second you filled me up.”

“We have plenty of time yet,” Spider growled.

Drifter shivered. “Fuck, yes, yes.” His fingers writhed in time with Spider’s aedeagus. “How many times can I make you finish? I wanna keep score, for later--fuck, shit, do that again.”

Spider tried to recreate his aedeagus’s flexing until Drifter cursed again, his thighs tightening and his fingers jerking. “How d’you do that, fuck, keep doing that, it’s so good, you’re so fucking good--”

Spider felt his muscles squeezing around him. His own bulb was starting to ache with it, his length moving more erratic. He breathed sharp, listening to Drifter mumble senseless curses and feeling him finger fucking himself; he could just feel his fingers with his aedeagus if he pressed hard enough.

That made Drifter choke in a breath and seize.

The sudden tight heat squeezed Spider, and if he wasn’t already blindfolded, he was sure he’d be unable to see for a moment as white static filled his mind. The only thing real in the universe for a good few seconds was Drifter coming hard around him and whining as Spider filled him.

Spider’s blinding bliss faded before his fluid stopped coming, giving him the perfect opportunity to feel Drifter grinding slowly into him, to hear him groaning low. Spider was still filling him, though the pulses were starting to ease, and he could feel it starting to spill out as his bulb softened.

One of Drifter’s hands brushed against where they were connected, pressing gingerly against Spider’s bulb and making him shudder. 

Drifter mumbled something incomprehensible, his voice thick and sounding nearly inebriated. 

“What was that?” Spider asked, keeping his voice barely above a whisper.

Drifter gave a delirious sort of laugh, weakly clenching again. “You always come so much.”

Spider would have rolled his eyes. 

Drifter’s other hand pressed to his chest and Spider felt his breath hot and damp against him. “I want to get every last drop outta you by the time I leave.”

“You have about a minute before I start getting full again,” Spider warned.

Drifter shuddered. “What I wouldn’t give for an Eliksni libido,” he said. 

Carefully, stiffly, Drifter lifted himself up to let Spider’s aedeagus slide out of him. He hissed another curse, and Spider could feel his own fluid seeping out of Drifter over his leg. 

“Next time I’m bringing a plug,” Drifter rasped. 

The throne creaked with the tensing of Spider’s arms. 

Drifter wheezed a laugh. “Well, that got your interest, didn’t it? Fuck, there’s still so much.” He took a breath. “Yeah, oh boy, that’s… a lot. You… d’you want those off?”

“Depends on what you have planned next,” Spider said, with cautious interest.

He could hear the grin in Drifter’s voice. “Y’know what’d be really, really hot? Gettin’ fucked into that wall over there. Been a while since we did it that way, huh?”

Spider leaned forward a little. “That, I can do. I’m just not sure you can stand right now.”

“You’d be surprised what determination can--shit.” Drifter hissed and sank back down. “Okay, yep, fine, gonna need a minute or two. Ugh, am I old, or just out of practice since the whole Cabal bullshit?”

Spider snickered. “Humans.”

His voice was dangerous now. “Oh, I’m not done yet. Got another trick up my sleeve until I can stand up again.”

“And what might that be?” Spider purred.

Drifter answered with a hand running along Spider’s softened bulb. “I’m gonna undo one of your arms. If you want to take off the rest, your blindfold, up to you. I need this in my mouth.”

Spider felt it twitch. 

“Kept thinkin’ about that, the second I walked in here.”

“Don’t lock your jaws again.”

“That was really, really hot, though.”

“You nearly shattered your entire jaw trying to fit my bulb in your mouth.”

“Yeah, but it was hot.”

“You’re insane.”

“I sure fuckin’ am, and you’re totally fine with that.”

Spider growled. “I am, aren’t I?”

Drifter moved, slow and stiff, his limbs shaking and curses hissing between his teeth. Spider felt his hands fumble at one of the straps for a minute, and Spider flexed his fingers as a lower hand was freed.

Drifter landed back down on Spider’s lap with a shudder.

Spider considered a moment, but then reached his freed hand for Drifter. Drifter’s fingers wrapped around his wrist to guide him, and he drew his claws carefully through his beard. Drifter’s hand dropped and his warm, wet tongue rasped over a knuckle. 

“Have I mentioned,” Drifter said, “that I’m so glad we found out you’re self-cleaning? It’s so much more annoying with other humans.”

Spider scoffed. “A benefit of an older species?” he said dryly. 

“Mm. Dunno. Nice either way.” He bit lightly at Spider’s hand. “Don’t need to do anything else but wait a minute before I can get my mouth on you.”

Spider pressed a claw against Drifter’s lip, but let him do the work of opening his mouth and sucking on his finger, gingerly, trying not to tear open the soft flesh inside his mouth. His blunt teeth scraped Spider’s skin.

“If you’d given me warning I could have clipped them,” Spider said. “And we could have done many more things.”

Drifter shivered and withdrew a little, but still lazily nibbling at his hand. “Next time. Fun as impromptu meetings are… I’d rather you not shred my naughty bits.”

“Don’t… call it that.”

Drifter snickered. “What, naughty bits?”

“That’s weird.”

“Intimate parts?”

“That’s weird in a different way.”

“My rule of three?”

“Stop it.”

“My--”

Spider pressed his finger back into Drifter’s mouth. “You talk way too much.”

Drifter hummed around his finger. After a few more seconds, he pulled his head back. “Leaving all that on, then?”

“For now,” Spider said. 

“Fuck. Nice.” Drifter moved his head, letting Spider’s hand slide into his hair. Spider automatically scratched his claws lightly into his scalp. 

“Are you going to be able to even…” Spider’s question trailed off as Drifter started moving, gingerly and with small grunts. The throne creaked as Drifter placed himself on the footrest, nestled between Spider’s knees.

“You can reach me alright?” Drifter asked, breath hot against Spider’s thigh.

Spider tightened his hand in Drifter’s hair as answer.

“Good,” Drifter murmured with a small shiver. “Oh, how I’ve missed this view. You’re already filling up again, aren’t you? You--”

Spider gripped Drifter’s hair and tugged his head forward with a growl. “Occupy your mouth with something besides talking.”

Drifter’s warm hands braced against Spider’s knees. The first touch of his tongue against his tip made Spider inhale sharp. 

Drifter rolled his tongue under him, against the tip seeking the heat of his mouth, teasing him. Spider heard him swallow. He licked him, slow, keeping his mouth at just enough distance that Spider’s searching aedeagus couldn’t reach on its own. One hand left his thigh to grip above his bulb. His fingers stroked lightly, mostly to hold him still, as he leaned forward to lick all the way from his tip to his bulb, leaving a stripe of heat. 

Spider kept his claws in Drifter’s hair, but didn’t push him, letting him have free reign. His head leaned back, surprisingly glad of the blindfold, letting him focus on the feeling of Drifter taking his tip between his lips. He sucked lightly, jaw loose, careful not to scrape his teeth on him. 

Drifter worked up slowly. He bobbed his head, lazily letting more and more slide into his mouth, his fingers rubbing against his bulb, half-swollen once again. 

Spider was sure all the fluid stored in his body was going to be gone by the time Drifter was satisfied. He was also more than alright with the thought; it was far more natural for him that way, though the recovery period would--

The thought vanished when Drifter hummed around him, the vibration rolling through him and making him groan a curse in Eliksni.

Drifter's jaw went slack. 

Spider tightened his claw as Drifter lowered his head until his lips pressed against his bulb. Spider tried to keep himself from writhing down his throat. 

Incredible that he wasn't choking. He was breathing hard through his nose. Spider felt his beard against his bulb, a dull scratch on the sensitive flesh.

Drifter was, at least, not trying to jam his bulb into his mouth again. He stayed there for several seconds, slowly swallowing around Spider’s length, fluid and saliva dripping from his mouth into his beard. Spider gripped his hair, holding him steady, as he explored the inside of Drifter’s mouth. 

Spider definitely liked it when Drifter’s mouth was busy with something besides yammering something insane. And he knew that Drifter liked having things in his mouth. 

He could feel the small noises in Drifter’s throat, the eager twitch of his fingers. 

Then, Drifter pulled back, gasping for breath. Spider growled low, not in warning.

Without another word Drifter moved. Spider felt his hands press the inside of his thighs, and warm wet breath over his ovipore made him shudder. 

He could feel Drifter’s grin as his tongue traced around the slick folds. Spider’s length pressed against the side of his face, only for Drifter to move one hand to hold it away with slow, lazy squeezes, just enough attention to let him focus more on Spider’s ovipore.

Spider’s chest was rumbling with a pleased, hungry purr as Drifter’s tongue dipped into him. 

It was definitely a pretty good evolutionary feature, human mouths, a part of Spider’s mind thought, not for the first time. There were no deadly rows of serrated teeth to worry about. There was only Drifter’s tongue curling in his ovipore, eating him out like his life depended on it. 

The hand not on his aedeagus slid up the plating of his thigh. Spider scratched lightly at Drifter’s scalp when his fingers teased alongside his tongue. 

It took him far too long to realize the extent of the teasing. Spider was fully swollen again, struggling for breath, before Drifter actually slipped his fingers into him. 

The bastard, Spider thought. He was going to be eating him out and sucking him off for the next twenty minutes. 

And Spider was going to let him.

Damn him. Damn the both of them, Drifter put that active mouth to good use. He wasn’t all talk--he knew just how to pull curses, hisses, shudders from the Spider with just his tongue. He was determined to taste every inch of Spider, put it to memory, an almost aggressive enthusiasm when he swapped between his ovipore and his aedeagus, Spider’s fluid slicked over his face and down his throat, cold and smelling strong of Ether.

He was getting off just as much just from this, Spider knew, hearing and feeling his moans, his shivers, his grin. There were few things Drifter enjoyed more than his mouth full of Spider, at his own admittance.

Spider was perfectly fine with that if it meant Drifter was swallowing him down his throat again, three fingers in his ovipore, moaning at the claws in his hair.

Spider was nearly shaking by then, minutes of Drifter’s mouth on him driving him closer and closer. 

He needed to see him.

He removed his claws from Drifter’s hair and reached for the blindfold.

Drifter bobbed his head down further. Spider knew he was doing that on purpose.

And wasn’t it a sight.

When he blinked his eyes open, he stared down at Drifter kneeling on the foot of his throne, light scratches from Spider’s claws along the back of his neck, his face shiny with slick and red with his arousal, his lips stretched around him. Spider dropped the headband to the side and returned his hand to Drifter’s hair. Drifter’s eyes fluttered closed. 

He could see himself moving in Drifter’s mouth.

Spider could feel the tension in his mouth as Drifter tried to smile with Spider quite literally down his throat. 

Spider shuddered. He felt his bulb pulse, on the verge of finishing, for the third time.

He couldn’t remember how to tell him in English. He pulled at Drifter’s hair with a growl. 

Drifter blinked up at him, once, before his eyes closed again. His shoulders shifted, one hand holding Spider’s hip down, the other pressing as deep into him as he could, curling into him. His throat tightened with a swallow, a low, hungry moan.

The very realization that Drifter knew Spider on the edge and wanted him to finish in his mouth was enough to tip him over. Spider clutched hard at him, throne creaking with the strain on his remaining bonds, expletives in two languages spilling from behind needle-sharp teeth as Drifter did his damnedest to swallow fast enough.

No matter how determined he was, he still sputtered a little, and come spilled from his mouth. With what could only be described as a pout, Drifter reluctantly pulled off Spider and coughed. He slid his fingers from inside him to slowly pump his aedeagus through it.

Spider breathed just as hard as Drifter as his flow began to let up, Ether-streaked fluid oozing over Drifter’s wrist, his chest. 

Drifter looked up at Spider and licked his lips. He grinned, toothy. “Someday--fuck.” 

Spider nearly laughed at his expression. 

His voice was little more than a rasp.

Drifter grimaced, reached up to rub at his throat. “Someday,” he croaked, “I’ll be able to swallow it all. Gonna do it.”

Spider scraped his claws down the nape of his neck, feeling Drifter’s flesh damp with sweat. “No offense, but I think you’re a bit too small.”

“Not for humans.”

“Definitely for us,” Spider scoffed. 

“Don’t care. I want it.” He rubbed his thumb along the underside of his twitching aedeagus, making Spider hiss in, trying not to whine at the touch.

“It might kill you.”

“If a fella got to pick?” Drifter attempted a laugh. “Might be the best death I’ll’ve ever had.”

Spider traced the scars on his shoulders, the muscles underneath. “What is it with you Lightbearers being completely insane?”

“That’s tame compared to other stuff.”

“I know. And I think you’re the craziest one I’ve ever met.”

“And yet I’m the one you’re fucking.”

“Not yet. I thought that was something still on the table?”

Drifter shuddered. “Fuck yes, it is. Still good?”

Spider chuckled low, digging in his claws a little, baring his teeth in a mimicry of a smile. “For you? Of course. In ideal conditions, Eliksni can go for hours.”

Drifter looked hungry. “Who’ve I gotta kill for ideal conditions?”

“Unless you can kill history, I’m afraid ‘ideal’ isn’t quite attainable.”

“Alright, no need to get angsty. I’ll take all I can get from you. And it’s… already a lot.”

“You sound like you’re dying.”

Drifter shrugged. “Had way worse reasons for a sore throat. Least I’m real into this.”

“So it would seem.” Spider looked down over him with a deep growl.

Drifter pressed his hands to Spider’s thighs and forced himself back up with a hiss. “I’ll unhook you. Hold still a sec.”

Spider let his hand rest on Drifter’s hip as he fumbled with the first strap. His newly freed hand followed suit, finding the heat of his skin immediately and trailing the tips of his claws along a longer scar on Drifter’s stomach, feeling the muscles twitch underneath and his breath hitch.

“Hey, easy, there,” Drifter said.

Spider narrowed his eyes at him and ran fingers over the sharp jut of his hip bone. 

“Mm. ‘Kay, never mind, go on.”

Spider chuckled as another hand was released. “You should know better by now.”

“I don’t know better about nothin’, and you know it.”

Spider scoffed. He waited for Drifter to untie his final arm. 

Drifter didn’t have time to move before all four hands were one him. Spider chittered at his startled grunt that became a shiver when Spider brushed his fingers over his nipple, pricked little marks into his hip, pulled him forward to nip carefully at his collarbone. He could taste his own come on him. 

Drifter tensed with a muffled groan when Spider wrapped a hand around him. “Did you almost come just from that?” he asked.

“From havin’ you in my mouth? Close to it. Didn’t wanna burn myself out yet. Ain’t got your stamina.”

Spider growled. That twitch began to return. Faster each time, fluid flowing freely through his body to pool in his bulb, until he would be completely spent. He could tell that was close, because the last few times always made him feel just a little desperate. He starved for it. And it made him hungry, craving a fresh supply of Ether. He’d need quite a bit after this.

“A shame, really,” Spider purred into his chest, a hand squeezing his ass the way he knew made Drifter squirm, and another sliding into his hair again. Drifter’s thighs settled around his stomach, one hand on the back of his neck, another tracing his plates with a lot of distraction. “You do look so nice when you finish. And I didn’t even get to see it earlier, with your clever little idea.”

Drifter rolled his hips, something desperate in it. 

He just touched him for a good minute, squeezing and groping and listening to the sounds that escaped him, feeling the shifting and tensing of powerful muscles and calloused scars. Sometimes it was almost easy to forget this Lightbearer was one of the oldest and strongest ones to exist. And possibly most insane. Older than himself. 

Hard to remember, when most of his mind was preoccupied with thinking about pinning him into a wall, that this two-armed creature could kill him so easily without touching a weapon.

And yet, here he was, grinding himself into Spider’s hand, eyes half-lidded and dark, his lips wet and swollen, skin hot and almost shiny with slick from Spider. 

Spider wasn’t sure if he would admit to being as proud of catching this Lightbearer in his web as he honestly was. A pride he would enjoy to himself. 

A pride he would enjoy in the present company.

Finding his ear, Spider let his teeth just barely graze against the fragile flesh. “Against the wall, was that what you wanted?” he asked, voice hardly above a whisper.

Drifter shuddered. “Yeah, yep, fuck yes.”

Enthused consent. Spider let a hand wander to the side for Drifter’s headband again. “Now I have an idea for you.”

“I’m already game, guarantee ya.”

“You sound like shit. No offense. I almost feel bad, really, I ruined your voice.”

“Nah, s’fine, I’ll get over it.”

“Not when you keep talking.” Spider brandished the headband. “And since I can’t keep you quiet by filling your mouth, I figured this would do. Unless you’ve got a better plan.”

Drifter rasped a laugh. “Oh! Yeah. Sure. Into it.”

Spider slipped the headband around his wrist the way Drifter had done earlier. “Two taps if you need it?”

“Two taps,” Drifter confirmed. 

Satisfied with the consent protocols, Spider tightened every hand on Drifter. Drifter made a confused sound until the throne creaked threateningly as Spider slithered carefully to the floor.

“Ohh,” Drifter breathed. He laughed. “Sweepin’ me off my feet, are we?”

“You’d buckle the moment I put you down.”

“You just can’t stop touchin’ me.”

“You just can’t stop talking.”

Spider didn’t feel the chill of the floor. Drifter jerked upright with a hiss when Spider pressed his back to the wall. “Fuck, that’s really cold,” he whined. 

“You’ll warm it.”

He was still very hard against him. The cold didn’t soften him even a little. Spider crowded him against the wall.

Drifter’s mouth latched to Spider’s chest, wherever he could reach, looking for the sensitive places between his keratin. There was impatience in both their hands. 

Spider found Drifter’s ear. “How are we doing this?” he asked.

Drifter shivered. “Put me down a sec?”

Spider carefully slid him down to his feet. Drifter grinned, something almost impudent, before turning around and bracing his hands on the wall beside his head. Nearly as a joking tease, he wiggled his hips. 

Spider could’ve laughed. As it was, he snorted softly. “Of course. I should have figured, with you.”

“Ah, what can I say? Just don’t let me hit my head or anything.”

Spider scoffed, all four hands returning to Drifter’s warmth. “Where do you want me? Which…”

Drifter knew what he was trying to say. He bucked under Spider’s touch a little. “Other one. The… front… ish…”

Spider didn’t really understand the whole human gender thing. Why Drifter seemed a little awkward sometimes, and on occasion refused to even acknowledge certain aspects of himself. Spider had considered asking him, or other humans, about it, but wasn’t sure how, not without possibly making Drifter more uncomfortable. He was even more confused with how it related to Lightbearer immortality.

But for now, it wasn’t an issue to worry about. Spider wrapped his fingers around Drifter’s cock, his thumb rubbing lightly at the nerves at its base, and purred at Drifter’s hoarse groan. 

“C’mon, Spider,” Drifter pleaded. 

Spider pulled the headband from around his wrist and presented it. Drifter angled his head. 

“Do it,” Drifter said. “Fuck, please, Spider.”

Two of his hands were careful pulling the headband down over Drifter’s face. Drifter’s mouth opened a moment, and he bit down on the fabric when Spider let his hands slide down to his shoulders. 

“Good?” Spider purred. 

Drifter hummed and knocked a knuckle on the wall once. 

It was lucky that Drifter was tall for humans. Although Spider had several feet of height on him, when he was crowded into him the way he he was, he could feel his aedeagus sliding against Drifter’s ass. 

He let one of his hands come down to guide himself. Drifter shifted his feet apart, eyes over his shoulder. Spider kept another hand on Drifter’s back. The jut of his shoulder blades, the tension around his spine, all so visible through that thin, fragile flesh, warm and flushed, it was still so utterly fascinating. 

When he started sliding into Drifter’s heat, mixing the slick of them, Drifter’s head lolled back with a moan. Spider trailed a claw gently across his throat, the heavy blood vessel resting there jumping under his touch. Similar to Spider’s Ether vessel, he knew. 

Drifter’s body trembled a little as Spider sank deeper into him, already eagerly rubbing into him. Spider’s bulb nudged against him, and he let out a whine, pleading. 

Spider chuckled low, waiting a few moments. “Now who’s the impatient one?” he purred. “Do you want that, too?”

Drifter tapped once, eyes pleading. 

Spider still had a hand around Drifter’s cock as he gave a slow, testing thrust. “I’ll take my time,” he said. “I can’t do this if I’m locked to you.”

Drifter very nearly whimpered, pressing his palms to the wall and jerking his hips. 

Spider had one of the oldest, most powerful, arrogant Lightbearers in the solar system turned to needy putty in his hands. 

It was Spider’s turn to take control again. Drifter had his turn, and now the Spider had him tight in his web.

Spider started a slow, lazy pace. He wasn’t built for the same hard, fast thrusting that humans were. He dragged it on, letting the eager movements of his aedeagus inside Drifter do most of the work. Drifter’s cinnamon-shadow smell was intoxicating, nearly overwhelming. He felt almost too hot, feverish--

A flicker of orange sparked in Drifter’s arousal-drunk eyes and everything around them was suddenly much, much warmer. 

Spider grabbed him harder.

No, this was not the first time Drifter had touched the Light when they were like this. But it was rare. Spider didn’t know what it was supposed to make him feel, but there was something… indescribable about it. 

A Chosen of the Great Machine, tapping into its power without true intent, just from the Spider fucking him.

It wasn’t really perverse, but probably blasphemy. Spider couldn’t care less when he was surrounded by wet heat and his pleading, wordless moans.

Spider slid a hand up Drifter’s arms and closed his fingers against his wrists, pinning his arms into the wall. He gave a sharper thrust, his swelling bulb just starting to nudge its way into Drifter.

Drifter was trying to watch him with hazy, slightly glowing eyes. He was moving with him, encouraging him to fill him, jaw tight. Spider wished again he’d been able to clip a claw down. Drifter loved things in his mouth--he’d prefer it be his fingers gagging him as he fucked into him. 

Spider’s bulb wasn’t solidly swollen enough yet that he couldn’t fill him, but he got the feeling that he’d need to be a little quicker. He could feel the Ether cold and quick in his body, a light static in his limbs. The high-energy push before what he could tell would be a final release before he’d need to recover. He pressed Drifter forward more, insistent, listening for any taps, even as he thrust harder.

Drifter jolted with a muffled shout as Spider’s bulb finally filled him. His eyes were completely unfocused, glowing brighter.

Spider couldn’t thrust into him anymore, but he was pulsing in him, the flexible, searching end of him touching as deep into him as he could, rubbing against every sensitive nerve. 

Spider rasped a breath, a low, pleased growl of nearly incomprehensible, blissed Eliksni dripping from between rows of teeth. Praises, expletives. 

Drifter tightened his stomach around him. His eyes looked a little sharper, brighter, challenging. He ground back into him, squeezing his bulb.

All he could smell was cinnamon, shadow, Light.

Spider came.

The world was nothing but heat and static.

It was a light tapping that cleared Spider’s mind just enough. He blinked, still shaking, pulsing deep into Drifter. Drifter flicked his eyes up at his arms, held fast to the wall by Spider’s hand.

Spider loosed his grip. Drifter pulled one hand free and let it slide down his chest. Spider felt him press his fingers against his abdomen and shudder. Even through the gag, he could hear him curse.

Spider was still filling him. His bulb wasn’t soft enough yet for any to start escaping him. Drifter wrapped his hand around Spider’s fingers that had gone still on his cock with a small sound of pleading. 

Spider let him guide his hand. Drifter started to jerk himself as Spider rubbed against the nerves at the base, drinking in the desperate noises he made.

His bulb gave a particularly sharp burst, making Spider groan out and Drifter nearly gurgle in bliss as he finally came around him, pulling as much out of Spider as he could.

When Spider’s bulb finally began to soften, Drifter pressed his hand back against his stomach. He groaned softly at the dripping of Spider’s come on the floor as it started to leak out of him. 

Spider let go of Drifter’s hand in favor of tugging the gag from his mouth. Drifter gasped for breath, leaning his forehead against the wall. He was still quivering around him, breath shallow, somewhere between a continuing orgasm and the aftershocks. 

Spider shifted slowly, a very cautious final few thrusts to ease out the rest of his own come and work Drifter through his orgasm. When his bulb stopped twitching, Spider shuddered, exhaustion washing over him as he felt his aedeagus start to slip back into its resting state. 

Drifter kept still for several seconds. Spider brushed his hands idly over him, half holding him upright. He was leaning hard against the wall. 

When Drifter let his hand slide down from the wall, there was a slightly burned imprint on the metal.

“Hey. Spider,” Drifter whispered.

Spider hummed.

“Let’s do that again sometime.”

Spider chuckled. “Unfortunately, you’ve spent me. Completely. Don’t expect me to be able to do this anytime within the next week.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’d be able to handle this again for a few days, either. No amount of Light is gonna make my hips cooperate. Unless I got got, which I’m hopin’ don’t happen. I don’t wanna be able to sit right for days.” His fingers pressed on his stomach with a shiver. “Definitely bringing a plug or two for next time. Shoulda prepped better. Oh well. Live and learn.”

Spider let one of his hands splay flat on Drifter’s abdomen too. He was slightly swollen, even with Spider’s come dripping down his thighs. “I know you said this isn’t dangerous, but…”

Drifter managed a laugh. “Ah, I’ll be fine. Mm, bet no other Fallen get to feel this full, right?”

“Most of a mature enough age are significantly larger than you. And have somewhere for it to go.”

“Their loss.”

“How do you humans recover so quickly? From what I’ve heard, some of you can do this… maybe not this, specifically, but still. Nearly, every day.”

“Well, y’all got the whole, like… Ether storage thing, right? That you gotta build up?” Drifter braced his forearm on the wall, head pressed to his arm as he peered over his shoulder at Spider. “Y’all go real hard, real long, but gotta chill for a while. Some humans are fuckin’ nuts and can go a whole lot. Others don’t. Really varied. Now, exos… long as they don’t short out, exos can just keep going. No weak muscles to worry about.”

“Fascinating.”

“Mm-hmm.” Drifter squirmed a little. A small splash made Spider grimace a little, despite the nearly drunk laugh from the Lightbearer. “Ah, ha, fuck, Spider, you’re real good.”

Spider’s pelvic plates started to close up again. “Are you able to walk?”

“Ha, fuck no, not yet. I think you turned half my bones into mush. But hey. That’s a good thing.”

Spider scoffed softly. “Am I supposed to just hold you against the wall like this until you can function again?”

“Well, no.” Drifter rolled his eyes. “I dunno what you wanna do now, ain’t a mind reader. Unless you’re tryin’ to kick me out, in which case, sheesh, that’d be real cold.”

Spider sighed. “No, of course not. I’m nothing if not a respectful Spider.”

“Ain't that a bit of an oxymoron?”

“English is a little difficult right now. You’ll have to excuse me.”

“I fucked the English outta ya. Puttin’ that on my resume.”

“You say that every time.”

Drifter laughed. “Is that a weird thing to be proud of? Makin’ the most powerful kingpin in the solar system forget how to speak ‘cause I made him come five times in an hour? Only fair, since you made me forget my fuckin’ legs are supposed to work.”

“Are we even, then?”

“Don’t you even start jokin’ about this bein’ one of your deals, Spider, we both know that’s just some banter.” Drifter leaned back into him with a low groan. “Ain’t no business deal with this. Right?”

Spider could feel his limbs shaking, nearly limp. There was still a slow dripping. “No.”

Drifter gave a lazy nod. “S’what I thought.”

Spider shook his head. “You’re going to stay here until you can move again.”

“Mmkay.” Drifter did jolt a little in surprise when Spider tightened his arms around him and lifted him up again. “Ow, whoa, what--”

“Our options are limited here,” Spider said dryly, returning to his throne. With the mid-sex haze faded, he grimaced at the slick on it. Of course it wasn’t the first time it happened, but still. He disregarded it for now.

When he was seated once again, he let Drifter sprawl over him and rested his hands on his still-feverish skin. It was almost awkwardly intimate, which was sort of funny, considering not two minutes ago he’d been quite literally stuck inside him.

“So--”

“You really can’t go three seconds without talking, can you?”

Drifter huffed, a pout on his face.

“Your voice still sounds terrible.”

“Shut up.”

Spider rolled his eyes. “Ridiculous.”

Drifter flexed his fingers almost absently. “Yeah, but you’re into it.”

Spider scoffed. He didn’t give a response.

Drifter grunted after a few seconds. “Lemme get your armor back together while I’m here.” He held up his hands expectantly.

Spider fumbled for the various pieces and straps. “You remembered.”

“Miracle, ain’t it?” Drifter chuckled as he started looping the belts back into place. “Almost didn’t.”

“It’s a good thing you did,” Spider said, though the threat was clearly empty. 

Drifter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m terrified.”

“You should be.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Spider watched him fit the pieces back together, both of them quiet. After a minute or two, Drifter glanced up. 

“Doin’ it right?” he asked.

Spider blinked. “What?”

“Am I doing it right?” he repeated. He snorted. “You’re watchin’ me.”

Spider looked at him in bewilderment. “What do you expect me to look at?”

“I-- alright, fair enough. Thought you was gonna start gettin’ soft on me or somethin’.”

Spider growled softly. He nearly made a comment, but bit it back. 

Maybe he was a little afraid of the answer if he asked if that was what Drifter would want.

Damn the bonding hormones. He knew they would fade as he rebuilt his internal Ether and fluid store, but instinct was difficult to ignore, especially when it was only one partner, instead of the few that Eliksni usually bonded with. 

But he had dealt with it for decades whenever Drifter stopped by. It might be a bit different this time, since this was the longest they had spent… together. Spider would ignore it, and it would fade, and then he could get back to work. 

“Uh… think I did that right. Yeah?” Drifter frowned. “That look right?”

Spider leaned forward slightly to look. “That’s backwards.”

“Oops. Damn it.” Drifter sighed and fixed it. “There, like that?”

Spider gave a nod.

“Alright, cool. All good to go, then.” He hissed as he sat up a little to put Spider’s armor to the side again. “Ow.”

Spider grimaced. “Is it that bad?”

“I’ll live. Could let my Ghost heal it, but… figure the poor fella deserves some more alone time.” He chuckled. 

“Hm. It might frighten the thing, as well, wouldn’t it?” Spider asked dryly, glancing at his treasures.

Drifter shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Already know you ain’t gonna take my Ghost, so.”

“You’re so certain.”

“I am.” Drifter held his eyes, completely assured. He offered no further explanation. He didn’t really need to.

Spider growled, sitting back. He was completely right, of course. And anyway, Spider didn’t kill Ghosts. They were dead before they joined his collection.

Not many Guardians believed him.

Then again--Drifter wasn’t a Guardian. The title was just that, and Drifter, despite his Ghost, his Light, his powers given by the Great Machine, was no Guardian.

He was still so warm.

Spider tightened a claw around his waist. Drifter quirked an eyebrow, but otherwise, didn’t comment. Instead, the Lightbearer gingerly pressed a hand to his stomach again, wrinkling his nose. “Pretty sure that I’m gonna be full for a while. Huh.”

Spider shrugged. “You asked for it.”

“Ha, and I’ll do it again.” He pressed his thighs together with a soft hum. “Pretty sure I’ll be gettin’ off on this for a good long while.” His face broke into a devious grin. “You gonna wanna see it?”

Spider narrowed his eyes. 

“I know you won’t be DTF for a good couple days, sure, but that don’t mean you can’t watch. A little gift for when you’re missin’ little old me.” He leaned closer to his face. “Long as you promise it’s just between you and me, of course.”

“Are you--offering to… record yourself?”

Drifter chuckled, the hoarseness adding to the dangerous tone. “Why not? Somethin’ special just for you, Spider. Keep me on your mind when I’m halfway across the system.”

Spider’s claws dimpled into his skin. “I’m intrigued.”

“I thought you might be. But it’ll be only for your eyes. Right? I wouldn’t really be too happy if a few dozen Guardians got their mitts on videos of me moaning your name.”

“Well, of course,” Spider purred. “Trust me. I can keep things to myself. Besides, why would I want anyone else seeing you like that?”

“Ooh, gettin’ a little possessive?” Drifter barked a laugh that turned into a rasping cough. “Cute.”

He growled. Why did he say that? Bonding hormones, right. Damn them. At least Drifter was taking it as something of a joke.

“Might need… a little time before that. ‘Cause oh, fuckin’ boy, tomorrow’s gonna be a little rough. Totally worth it, though. I want it even worse next time. I want to just be a puddle.”

Spider clicked at that. “And you say I have poor word choice? Isn’t English your first language?”

“You just fucked out my ability to walk, I think I deserve a break.”

“Terrible.”

“You loved it.”

“Every moment.”

Drifter grinned in victory. He rolled his shoulders and sat up a little straighter. His victorious grin became something uncertain. “Uh, hm. Any idea how long it’s been?”

Spider shrugged and glanced at the side of his throne. He tapped the screen there. “Hm. Just about an hour.”

Drifter made a fist. “Damn right, an hour. Pretty good, right? If we plan a little I bet we can set aside a whole day.”

It was very tempting. “We’d have to find some way to get all these pesky Guardians otherwise entertained.”

Drifter wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, that’s true. Might wait for… what’s his name? Salad-man. The Iron Lord. He comes ‘round the City a week a month. Guardians go crazy in the Iron Banner. Bet I can put off Gambit for a day. I can do without a couple matches’ worth of Motes for you.”

“You’re so avid about those things. And yet you would put a day with me over a few hundred of those things?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Drifter said with a chuckle. “Why the hell not? Sure, I need ‘em, the more the better, but damn it, I’m old. Won’t be the end of everything if I have a little me time with my favorite Spider, right? Universe will go on a little bit longer. Then again, I might be out a couple days, if I feel this sore after just an hour.” 

“You aren’t even the one fighting, though.”

“Someone’s gotta clean up after ‘em all. What, you think I’m just leavin’ it all out for the next match? Can’t be lettin’ corpses pile up. And there’s a whole lotta bastards out there who’ll move in tryin’ to take my arenas if I don’t clear ‘em out. Had a bunch of Red Legion pester me while I was takin’ an arena in the EDZ a little while ago.” He laughed, the sound dangerous in a very different way than others before. “Morons didn’t know what they were up against. Did you know they sound an awful lot like a rabbit gettin’ skinned alive when they’re screaming?”

“At this point, anything in the system should fear you.”

“Flattering, thank you, but I don’t think I’m quite so… mm, recognizable. Been out the system for so long, anyway, lots of ‘em either forgot me or died. And anyway. I’m not really a war monger or anything. Sure, war’s good for the Motes and the money--I’m sure you relate on the latter.”

Spider nodded.

“But personally… a little gunfight won’t do me no harm, yeah, but I’m playing things a little different now. And anyway. You sure as hell ain’t scared of me.”

“Should I have reason to be?”

Drifter blinked, almost in confusion, for a moment. His brow knit. “No. I mean… in theory. Guess you’d have reason to be afraid of any of us, right?”

“As much as humans fear my people,” Spider scoffed. 

“Bloody hands on either side. But… you, personally, and me, personally? No. Definitely not.” He frowned and sat up straighter. “That something you’re worried about? If I said or did anything to make you think you should be afraid of me, I’m sorry, ‘cause--”

Spider waved a hand. “Passing thoughts, nothing more. There are few I trust, you understand.”

“Ha. Same boat with that. Glad to know I’m on that list.”

“It is a little hard to distrust someone when we’ve done everything we’ve done for as long as we have.”

Drifter chuckled. “Yeah, that’s true. And, hey, not just the sex, though that’s probably enough on its own.”

Spider would agree. He gave an approximation of a smile. 

Drifter sighed, stretched. Spider appreciated the view, earning a narrow-eyed grin. Drifter rested his arm on his knee. “Guessin’ your bodyguards are gonna be getting a little antsy soon, won’t they?” he said, sounding resigned.

“Probably.”

“Well, I think my legs can function again, sort of. And I should start gettin’ the Derelict back to the City. Gotta get some stuff ready for Gambit later this week. Much as I hate to leave… duty calls, and all that.”

Spider hummed, the part of his mind influenced by the bonding hormones making him dig his claws a little tighter.

Drifter, at least, didn’t mention it. Instead, he said, “Lemme get back in my pants and then I’ll… help you clean up a little. I did help make the mess.”

Drifter moved stiffly, his limbs a little rubbery as he struggled back into his clothes. Spider considered offering to help, but knew that would probably be a little weird. He, instead, started replacing pieces of his own armor. 

“Woo, boy, I’m gonna sleep good tonight,” Drifter said as he pressed his hands to his back and angled his shoulders. “Nothin’ else is quite the workout. Either I’m gonna be out like a light or…” He grinned at Spider.

Spider chittered at him and tossed a cloth from one of the storage caches at him. There was absolutely no way that they’d get out the scent. 

He didn’t really care, if he was honest. Humans wouldn’t detect it. Other Eliksni might, but it would fade fairly quickly, especially if he flooded the room with Ether to help refill himself for a while. And so what if they knew he was having sex? Not one of them would dare question him about it. 

He was the Spider, after all. 

He didn’t really know if his associates knew. It had been quite a while since Drifter had last visited, mostly between the Scorn forcing Spider into hiding, the Red War before that, Drifter’s explorations far out of the system. It wasn’t really much of a secret, not for Spider. Maybe for the Guardians on Drifter’s end, but then again, he wasn’t terribly significant to them until he came back to the City after the Red War to recruit them for his Gambit.

Drifter was a strange enough person that Spider guessed that their… unusual relationship wouldn’t be terribly remarkable to the Guardians. And he, personally, couldn’t care less if Guardians knew. 

Whatever, he reasoned. They both had enough power, physically and politically, that it didn’t really matter. 

Drifter hummed. “That everything?”

Spider shrugged. “Seems to be.”

“Hope it don’t ruin your throne. Though, seriously. Please get one that’s not hangin’ from the ceiling.”

Spider scoffed. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said dryly.

Drifter adjusted his headband and shrugged back into his long coat. He grabbed his belt from the floor--Spider wished he’d waited on the coat. “I’ll be in touch, then. Next time, we’ll plan things a little more. See what we can’t come up with.” He grinned, toothy.

Spider purred low. “I’ve got more than a few ideas already. I look forward to it.”

Spider settled back on his now cleaned throne. Drifter looked appreciatively at him for a few long moments and sucked at his teeth. “Picture of confidence, you know that? If you didn’t just fuck me senseless I’m sure I’d be packin’ just from the look of you. Here, lemme get your rebreather back on for you, yeah?”

Spider was already about to strap it back into place, but paused. Drifter hauled himself back up to perch on his lap again, half a dozen more layers between them now. Drifter’s warm hands took the rebreather from his hands and he slowly hooked them back into place. Like he was drawing out how much time he was here, despite having said himself that he needed to be leaving. 

“Good?” Drifter asked, voice hushed, as he opened the Ether valve in Spider’s throne.

Spider took a breath. Filtered, Ether-rich air flowed into him. He blinked two eyes and gave a nod.

Drifter grinned and slithered back down, grunting softly and cursing when he stood again. His voice still sounded like shit. “Alright. Be seein’ you then. You take care now, y’hear?”

“You as well,” Spider purred. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my favorite Light, now.”

Drifter’s grin grew. “Flattery will get you everywhere, won’t it?”

“A few places, for sure.”

“Cheeky bastard.”

Spider clicked and tapped his console to reopen the airlock. 

“Oh. Hey, Guardian, hello, boys,” Drifter said, staring at a Guardian sitting on the floor across from Spider’s guards, who looked somewhat uneasy with the Guardian. All three looked at the room. 

Spider heard his guards click at each other and watched them share a look.

“What’re you doin’ here, Guardian? Actually, nevermind, dumb question, obvious answer. Sorry we kept ya.” Drifter shrugged. 

The Guardian stood, and Spider’s guards followed suit, unsure what to do. It was very amusing to him.

Spider reached for his dead Ghost again, needing to fidget with something.

Drifter stage-whispered to the Guardian. It sounded more hoarse than his speaking voice was at the moment. “He’s in a real good mood today, hotshot. You’re in luck.”

Spider felt the urge to chuck the Ghost at him. He narrowed his eyes at his smirk.

Drifter glanced back at the Spider. “Absolute pleasure doin’ business with you,” he said. 

“Always is,” Spider replied coolly.

Drifter took a few steps as the Guardian passed him into the room, only to pause and turn around. “Oh, Spider, by the way.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of those jade coins. He flipped it through the air to Spider.

Spider reached out to catch it.

Drifter grinned wide. “I’ll get those recordings to you by the end of the week. Payment for, ah… services rendered.”

Spider scoffed softly. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for them. As per the terms.”

Drifter’s wink went unnoticed by the Guardian and Spider’s guards. What didn’t was the slight hiss through his teeth when he took a stride forward and brushed a hand to his hip. Spider held back a chitter watching Drifter recompose himself and limp from the room. 

Spider’s guards watched him go and then stared quizzically at Spider. Spider clicked at them. “What?” he asked.

Kevriks glanced back after Drifter again and back at Spider.

Spider settled his lower hands on his stomach. “Something you want to say?” he asked.

“N-no, Spider,” Veksin said. Spider could hear his shallow breathing.

Even the rebreather couldn’t totally mask the lingering smell of cinnamon and Ether. 

The Guardian seemed quite confused. “What was Drifter doing here?”

“Business,” Spider lied. “I can’t share all my dealings, you know. I’m an honest businessman, after all.”

“He’s got that arena on the Tangled Shore. Did you give it to him?”

Spider chuckled. “Like I said. Business.”

The Guardian hummed softly, uncertain. “Didn’t know you two knew each other.”

Spider heard Kevriks make a small sound, like choking on a delirious laugh. Veksin’s claws were gripping his pike tightly. 

“I know many people, and many things, my friend,” Spider said. He glanced down to the jade coin in his claws. 

He ran his thumb over the raised mark and turned it over. 

He froze. 

His eyes went wide. 

“Drifter, you bastard,” Spider hissed.

They were the exact same symbol.

  
  


 

 

****

The Drifter leaned against his cache of Cabal armor, favoring his legs and sore hips. He saw some raised eyebrows and uncertain looks from Guardians sneaking in to ask about his plans for future Gambit games, what kind of weapons he would have later, if he could do anything about the drop of heavy ammo when their teammates kept grabbing it first.

He didn’t bother moving much, certainly unusual for him when he was skulking at the Tower. He spoke less, as well, gingerly working through a handful of hard candies that didn’t really help much with his sore throat. The old camera he’d scavenged was sitting on the table, being slowly reassembled throughout the day. He knew Spider would appreciate the vintage.

His strange behavior was, of course, a topic of whispered gossip, and he heard it from a fireteam at the ramen shop next door as he took the moment of peace to press a thumb into his tailbone trying to alleviate a little bit of the persistent ache that he really didn’t want to leave just yet. His stomach still felt funny, still a bit full, and the candies couldn’t cover the lingering taste of ozone and metal and salt. His breath probably smelled like lemon drops and Ether.

“What’s up with him, do you think?” The Titan was asking around a mouthful of noodles. “Looks like he’s in pain or something.”

“I saw him coming in this morning,” the Hunter replied, and Drifter snorted silently. He’d seen her staring at him from across the Bazar. “He was limping… and he sounds like someone choked him…”

The Warlock scoffed. “You two are absolutely ridiculous,” he said, far less concern in his voice than in his fireteams’. “I mean, come on.”

“What?” asked the Titan, almost offended.

The Warlock dropped his voice, but Drifter grinned, hearing him nonetheless. “He got absolutely nailed.”

Chopsticks clattered against a bowl, and Drifter pressed his gloved knuckle to his teeth to stop a burst of laughter. “Oh my Light,” whispered the Hunter. 

“The Drifter’s seeing someone?” the Titan asked.

“Are you really surprised?”

“Who do you think it is?” the Hunter said, gleeful in her gossip.

“Got to be a dude,” said the Warlock. “No way he’s not gay. I’d drink radiolaria if he was straight.”

“Maybe you’re projecting,” the Hunter scoffed. “Or you’re just super gay.”

“Uh, who’s not?” said the Titan.

Drifter was nearly doubled over in silent laughter by now.

“Who on Earth could dick down the Drifter?” said the Hunter. 

“Stupid, maybe they’re not on Earth.”

“Gotta say, he’s got a hell of a work ethic, coming to the Tower like this, if he got it so hard he can’t walk and talk right.”

“Man, I don’t know if I’d wanna be the other guy, or him.”

“I still wanna know who it is.”

Drifter grinned.

He’d seen that Titan wearing gauntlets from the armor that Spider had fashioned as payment for Guardians. 

Oh, if only they knew.

 

**Author's Note:**

> im on tumblr @lesbianeliksni


End file.
